


Up to The Challenge

by Singerdiva01



Category: Battlestar Galactica (2003)
Genre: Angst, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-16
Updated: 2015-08-16
Packaged: 2018-04-15 01:41:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4588203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Singerdiva01/pseuds/Singerdiva01
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bill begins to come to terms with his demons after he lets Laura 'down.' Ostensibly a kink fic but one with a big helping of angst and self reflection.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Up to The Challenge

He’d tried to play it off with a joke about getting old. Laura, in her infinite grace, made a comment about the time and being tired anyway before rolling over and going still. 

He woke up with a start, his breathing ragged and heavy. The first shimmer of panic -- maybe it was a dream? -- morphed into familiar waves of shame and dread as hazy images assaulted him from behind his eyelids. He jerked them open for just long enough to confirm he was alone in the rack before the shots of pain through his temples forced him to clench them shut again.

When he did, he saw the look in Laura’s eyes as clearly as if she were still lying next to him, studying him in that way of hers. Disappointment. Fear. A sadness so immense she looked like she might have been about to cry before she turned away. 

At the time, he worried she’d finally figured it out. Had been making plans to apologize, acknowledge his problem, and strategizing ways to hide it better when he drifted off to sleep. Now, with an aching but clearer head, he worried she might not have figured it out at all.

He lay there for a long time, alternately berating himself and trying valiantly to construct a narrative in which it wasn’t that bad. Finally, he mustered the energy to scoot to the side of the rack and put shaky legs down on the deck. First water and a painkiller, then a shower. Then, he vowed, even if it took all his strength, to take the first step toward making it right. 

****

She came home late. She’d been doing that, or coming back early and shuffling off to bed. He knew why but hadn’t really let it sink in until today. Guilt snaked up his spine, reminding him he should be grateful she came back at all. 

She slipped off her heels and set her bag down by the hatch before making her way into the room. She looked wary, another thing he’d noticed recently but pressed out of his mind. She glanced at his glass of clear liquid and then at the carafe beside it. He didn’t even pretend not to watch as she looked over at the drink cart. Or, rather, where the drink cart used to be. 

She looked at him, back to the empty spot on the wall -- yellowed, he was really gonna need to move something there -- and took a tentative step toward his place on the couch. 

“It’s all gone. Every single drop of it, down the sink,” he confirmed. “You can search the place, if you want.” He hadn’t intended to say that last part, and certainly not so defensively. Her eyes darted around the room, as if she was actually considering it, and he bowed his head in shame. 

He heard her approach, felt her weight sink down next to him, and her arm wrap around his shoulder. She sighed deeply and squeezed, her nails digging into his skin through the terrycloth of his robe.

“I’m proud of you, Bill.” She turned and graced him with a smile that didn’t quite meet her eyes. He waited to see if she’d say something else, internally pleading with her to believe him. Give him absolution. Something. Anything but look at him that way. 

He’d worn that look. With CarolAnne, the first, second, and tenth time she promised to get clean. With Saul twenty more times than that, and more recently. The sudden realization that he was now on the other side, the addict someone he loved wanted to trust but couldn’t quite, stung like a bullet through the flesh. 

“I know there’s not a script here but I’ve heard this speech enough times to know I’m supposed to say I’m doing it for me, not for anyone else.” When she hummed noncommittally, he forced himself to soldier on. “And I am. Because the man I’m becoming is not the man I want to be. Not the man this crew needs and you deserve. But I did this today because I wanted you to know it was me, not you.” 

That seemed to catch her off guard. When she tilted her head the dark, fake strands fell across her face and she automatically raised her hand to flick them away. He caught it midway and swiped the wig back with the other, taking the opportunity to capture her lips in a deep kiss. 

She resisted at first, just barely, then opened her mouth to let him inside. He felt like he was kissing her for the first time like she deserved to be kissed and it was only when she gasped into his breath did he remember to be gentle. Before he could voice his concern, or even move more than a centimeter away, she giggled and tucked her face into the crook of his shoulder. 

“You’re so beautiful, Laura,” he whispered, “so absolutely perfect in every way. I don’t ever wanna not be able to show you that again.”

She lay in his embrace for a long time, the only sound the co-mingling of their breaths. Finally she pulled back and placed a hand on his shoulder. “You know it isn’t going to be quite that easy, Bill. Everything that made you reach for that bottle is still happening.”

She flicked her eyes to the cannula on her wrist and smiled sadly. He had to blink back tears but was determined not to go there. Not tonight. Tonight, he had a mission. 

“I know,” he whispered, taking her hand and kissing it just above the bandage, “and I know it’s gonna take a long time to prove to you I’m serious. That I’m strong enough not to march down to Saul’s quarters and crawl in one of _his_ bottles or one at Joe’s.” 

Laura nodded and stroked his cheek. “Alright. I hear you and I’m gonna hold you to it.” She put on a mock serious expression. “I signed a new presidential decree today. It’s illegal to serve the Admiral of the fleet.”

He laughed uncomfortably but nodded anyway. “Alright, speaking of serving, how are you feeling?”

She narrowed her eyes at the non sequitur. “Fine. Why do you ask?” 

He answered by drawing her closer for another kiss and then another, muttering promises his bottom half was rapidly assuring him he could keep.


End file.
